


Go Real Slow And Then Go Real Fast

by flawedamythyst



Category: Marvel
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bucky Barnes Is Also Thirsty, Clint Barton's Farm, Inadvisable Use Of Woodworking Equipment, M/M, Meant To Be A PWP But Then There Were Feelings, Outdoor Sex, Rimming, bucky barnes is a romantic, carpentry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:42:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25821562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flawedamythyst/pseuds/flawedamythyst
Summary: Bucky knew from the start that this thing with Clint was special, and that meant he should take it slow so that Clint knew it too. But how the hell was he meant to have the willpower for that while Clint was shirtless and doing carpentry in the sun?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 58
Kudos: 380





	Go Real Slow And Then Go Real Fast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kangofu_CB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangofu_CB/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, CB! Hope you have a great day.
> 
> Thanks to Steph for the inspiration, and Nny for the beta.

The first time Bucky got caught kissing a girl, his pa took him aside for a chat about the birds and the bees and not getting anyone into any trouble.

“Look, son, I remember being a young man,” he’d finished, while Bucky had been hoping the floor would open up and swallow him, “and I remember how the girls used to be as well. I’m not gonna tell you to act like a monk because we both know that’d be wasted words. You kiss all the girls you want, as long as they want it too, and if they let you go further, well, just be sensible, ya hear? Don’t go breaking your momma’s heart.”

Bucky had nodded stiffly, praying the conversation was nearly over.

“And, one day you’re gonna meet a girl that you just know is the one you want to spend your life with,” his pa had added. “Someone special. I knew in my heart the minute I met your momma that she was the one for me. When you find that girl, you need to treat her with respect, don’t go acting like she’s any other girl you’ve kissed. You take it slow, make it clear to her that she’s worth waiting for. If she’s gonna be the mother of your children, you need to act like it from the start, you understand?”

Bucky had nodded again and said, “Sure, pa,” before he’d managed to escape, but he hadn’t really understood.

Oh, he’d got the first part all right. He found plenty of girls who were just as happy to be kissed as he was to kiss them, and a few who were happy to go further, but he took care to treat them right, to think about their reputations and not just getting his hands in their panties. The ones that knew what they were doing, that took control and told him exactly what they wanted, those were the ones he went further with, because they made it clear that their reputations were their own business. None of them felt special though, not how his pa had described it.

He kissed a few boys as well, but he knew that was never going to go anywhere further than a night in an underground bar or a fumble in an alleyway. He wasn’t going to be able to spend his life with a man. The rush and thrill he got from being with them was going to have to be put aside once he got to the marrying stage of life.

And then he was sent off to war, and kissing anyone hadn’t been his priority any more. One thing had followed another until seventy years had gone by since his last kiss, and his pa’s words had been erased from his mind so completely that he hadn’t even known they were missing.

A month or two after Steve finally talked him into moving into Stark’s tower with the other Avengers, Bucky was on the couch in the main lounge watching some documentary about coral reefs when Clint came wandering in, clearly fresh from the range. Since Bucky had moved in they’d spent a fair amount of time together, at first mostly by default because they both spent too much time either at the range or watching TV, but it hadn’t taken long for Bucky to realise he actually liked spending time with Clint. He was easy to be around in a way that Stark wasn’t, and there was no dark shadow of the past resting over their interactions like there was with Steve or Natasha. 

Plus he was easy on the eyes and didn’t seem to mind Bucky looking, but never pushed for more than that, and he told the absolute worst jokes that Bucky always found himself laughing at in spite of himself.

Clint threw himself onto the sofa beside Bucky, shuffling around until his feet were in Bucky’s lap, and gave him a wide grin. “Hey, how long’s it been since you played pool? I know a bar that’s only kinda shitty, and it’s been too long since I kicked someone’s ass.”

The strength of the rush of affection and tingle of pleasure at just the idea of spending an evening hanging out with Clint took Bucky by surprise, and he realised there was a lot more going on with his feelings for Clint than just enjoying having a friend to hang out with.

His father’s words came back to him like a bolt of lightning. _One day you’re gonna meet a girl that you just know is the one you want to spend your life with._

Shit. He wanted that with Clint. He wanted to wake up and see that grin every morning, wanted to hang out in shitty bars and get dragged to dog parks and be laughing at his cheesy jokes when they were old and grey.

For a wild moment he wanted to press Clint back against the couch and kiss him until he was flushed and breathless, and then drag him off to the nearest bedroom for more, but he had the rest of his father’s words ringing in his ears.

_When you find that girl, you need to treat her with respect, don’t go acting like she’s any other girl you’ve kissed. You take it slow, make it clear to her that she’s worth waiting for._

Clint was worth waiting for. Bucky wanted him to know that he was special, and not just a chance for Bucky to get off for the first time in decades.

He wanted to treat him right.

“Sure, I’ll come to a bar with you,” he said, resting a hand on Clint’s ankle instead of kissing him like he wanted. “You’re gonna have to find someone else’s ass to kick at pool though, because you sure as shit haven’t got a chance against me.”

Clint laughed. “Sure, whatever you say. Guess there’s only one way to find out for certain.”

Bucky spent the next few weeks tangled in a mixture of tingling anticipation and frustrated longing. He took things exactly as slowly as he felt Clint deserved, bringing him little things like cups of coffee and books he thought he’d enjoy, taking him out on casual dates to bars or for a walk in the park, and doing his best to make it clear that Clint was important to him. He learnt ASL and watched all of _Dog Cops_ , took to keeping dog treats for Lucky around, even hunted down a new pair of the obnoxious purple sunglasses Clint always wore after he broke his last pair. Anything he could think of that would make it clear that Clint was special to him.

And Clint rewarded him with more of those wide smiles, with jokes and rough-housing and stupid competitions at the range. Bucky got used to having at least some part of Clint draped over him when they watched TV, to back slaps and hair-ruffles and all the dizzying physical gestures of his affection. It seemed pretty clear to Bucky that they were both on the same page with this and just waiting for the right moment to make it official.

He wasn’t sure how to tell that the moment had come, though. He wanted to kiss Clint, more than anything, but whenever he thought about taking that step, about closing the distance between them and getting to taste Clint’s lips, he found himself pulling back instead.

He wasn’t even sure why, other than that he wanted the moment to be perfect, and it hadn’t quite felt like they’d got there yet.

****

“Hey, how long has it been since you had a vacation?” asked Clint one day, as they were heading up in the elevator after a trip for coffee.

“You’re going on vacation?” asked Bucky because any time Clint asked him a question like that, what he really meant was ‘I’m doing this thing, please do it with me’. 

Bucky hadn’t thought Clint was the vacation type. Sure, he spent a lot of his spare time just goofing around not doing much, but when it came to being Hawkeye, he was completely focused. Sometimes it felt like he was two different people: laid back Clint, who watched TV and drank too much coffee and who never really seemed to have his shit together; and Hawkeye, who was dedicated, skilled and probably spent far more time training than anyone else in the tower.

“Oh yeah,” said Clint. The elevator doors opened for the communal floor and he headed out with Bucky a step or two behind, not bothering to keep his eyes off the fit of Clint’s jeans over his ass. “I take a couple of weeks off in August every year, when it’s too damn hot to be fighting aliens and robots.”

He glanced back with a grin and Bucky flicked his gaze up to meet his eyes just slightly too late to hide what he’d really been looking at.

Clint’s grin widened and he turned to perch on the back of the couch. “I’ve got a farm in Iowa I’m fixing up for when I finally get around to retiring. I’m gonna head out there and get a bit more done. Want to come and stare at my ass while I redo the dining room floor?”

Bucky felt his cheeks go hot, but he kept his head up. He wasn’t about to be ashamed of checking out Clint’s assets. “Depends. If you’re looking for free labour, you should know I don’t have any experience with DIY, and I’m not really looking to change that now. I’ve got enough skills.”

“Nah,” said Clint, “I’m just looking for some eye candy while I get on with it all.” He tipped Bucky a wink. “You can just sit around and look pretty.”

Bucky took a couple of steps forward, drawn in by the look on Clint’s face until he was right in the space where Clint’s legs were spread out to brace himself against the couch. “Sounds good,” he admitted. “Think Steve will let both of us go off at once?”

“Oh yeah,” said Clint, reaching out to hook a couple of fingers into Bucky’s belt loops. “I reckon you could get him to let you do anything at the moment, especially if you point out that Hydra never gave you a vacation. Besides, most of the bad guys tend to take the summer off too. It’s too hot for anyone to want to be in a firefight.”

Bucky considered that, then nodded. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed. “I’ll come watch you get your carpenter on, and bandage you up when you hit your thumb with a hammer, or whatever else you do to injure yourself.”

“Yeah?” asked Clint, tugging gently on Bucky’s belt loops but not strongly enough to force him to step closer. “You gonna kiss it better?”

Bucky felt himself sway forward, his eyes flicking down to Clint’s lips, and he thought, yet again, about leaning in and tasting them. Clint just held still, one eyebrow raised in a challenge, and Bucky knew he’d welcome it.

There was a clatter from the kitchen and Bucky pulled away, stepping back. He didn’t want his first kiss with Clint to happen this casually, in the middle of the day while someone was making coffee in the next room. Like it didn’t mean anything special.

“Guess we’ll have to see,” he said, sliding on a smirk.

Clint’s smile stayed just as bright, although Bucky could see his shoulders slump slightly. “Not sure why you’re so convinced I’m gonna injure myself anyway,” he said, letting the conversation move on as if the moment hadn’t happened. Bucky wondered if he was just as keen to make sure that whatever happened between them was special. God, he hoped so. “I’m pretty good with a hammer.”

Bucky snorted. “Sure, okay,” he said. “Just like you are with waffle makers? Or coasters? Or the fire escape on that building the other week?”

“There were extenuating circumstances for all of those,” protested Clint. Bucky just raised an eyebrow because there was no way anyone else would have been involved in the waffle-maker incident. For all his feelings for Clint, he couldn’t deny that the guy was pretty much a disaster any time he wasn’t holding a bow.

Clint sighed. “Yeah, okay,” he muttered, then pushed himself up from his lean on the sofa. “Alright, I told Nat I’d spar with her, you go and break it to your bestie that you’re going on vacation without him.”

Right. Steve. That might take some fast-talking.

****

Clint’s farm was bigger than Bucky had been picturing. There was enough space for him to go out on a run and stay completely on Clint’s land, so he didn’t have to worry about running into anyone else, and the house itself had several bedrooms, a lounge that took up the full width of the house, and a porch at the front with a view out over the woods and fields for miles.

They spent the first day just generally lazing about. Clint pulled out a couple of sun loungers that they set up in front of the house, and other than a couple of hours spent in the range in the barn, they didn’t really do much more than just lie on them. Bucky privately thought that Clint’s claims of wanting to come out here to do some work on the place were just an excuse, and prepared to spend the rest of the two weeks just lounging around, reading a few books and just generally feeling like he didn’t have to do anything. It was a pretty novel feeling but he felt like he could get used to it.

Especially if Clint was going to take his shirt off and just lie out in the sun, gently bronzing. Bucky probably spent as much time staring at the freckles forming on Clint’s shoulders as he did reading his book.

Clint pulled out a grill for dinner and they had burgers and beer sitting on the porch. Bucky wouldn’t have changed a thing, especially not when they’d finished their food and Clint settled onto the porch swing, then held out a hand to Bucky. “Come join me, man.”

The swing was pretty small for two big guys so they ended up pressed together, Clint casually wrapping an arm around Bucky as they watched the stars come out.

“This is better than the tower, right?” asked Clint.

“Oh yeah,” agreed Bucky. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“No worries,” said Clint. “Lucky would have pined if I’d left you behind.”

Bucky snorted because Lucky had gone off on his own adventure in the woods most of the day, and was now curled up by Clint’s feet giving no sign that he’d even noticed Bucky was there. “Just Lucky, huh?”

Clint gave an awkward shrug. “Yeah, okay, maybe I would have as well.” He gently squeezed Bucky’s shoulders and Bucky let himself be pulled in closer to his side, tipping his head to rest against Clint’s. Neither of them said anything else for a while, just looking up at the sky as it faded fully into night, and Bucky wondered if this was the moment to kiss him.

They had two weeks out here together, just the two of them, after all. That felt like the perfect time for Bucky to focus on Clint without having to worry about anything else.

Bucky could see himself kissing Clint when he came stumbling down in the mornings, before handing him a cup of coffee, or holding him in his arms on the couch in the evenings, pressing soft kisses to his face to make it clear just how precious he was to Bucky. 

He’d taken things slow, right? Made it clear to Clint that he was interested in more than a quick fumble?

He tried to remember if Pa had ever said anything about how exactly he had finally taken that step with Mom, or even just how you let someone know they were the one you wanted to treat right for the rest of your life, but either they’d never talked about it, or Hydra had erased it too completely from his mind for him to retrieve it.

“Another beer?” asked Clint, pulling away and collecting their empties, and Bucky sat back against the edge of the swing, realising he’d missed his chance.

For now.

“Yeah, sounds good,” he said, then rubbed a hand over his face as Clint headed inside. Fuck, he couldn’t keep stalling this forever. He needed to work out how to make a move.

****

The next morning, Bucky slept later than he’d thought he could any more. He woke up to the smell of coffee and the soft sound of whistling downstairs and blinked to himself, just enjoying the warm lethargy of having had too much sleep.

How was Clint up before him? Bucky wasn’t sure that had ever happened before.

He fumbled for his phone and checked the time, and then had to double check it, because there was no way he’d have slept that late, surely?

Shit, apparently he really had needed a vacation.

He tensed, about to leap up and rush through the bathroom so he could get downstairs before it could get any later, and then he realised there was no point. He had no real plans for today, and breakfast would be waiting for him whenever he made it downstairs. There was no need to hurry anything, not for the next couple of weeks.

He settled back against the pillow and found himself smiling up at the ceiling. Downstairs, Clint said something to Lucky and there was the clink of crockery. Yeah, Bucky was going to enjoy waking up like this for a week or two.

It could only really be better if Clint was in bed beside him, but hopefully that would come in time.

God, please let that come in time.

Bucky sat up enough to pull back the curtain so he could stare up at the clouds passing overhead as he lazily stretched out in bed. There was a tree growing close enough to the house for him to see some of the branches while lying down, leaves gently wafting in the breeze, and he watched them move for long enough to fall into a half-awake daze. His thoughts were easy and sluggish and it took him maybe another half an hour before he found the energy to pull himself up out of bed and actually move, and then it was only because he needed the bathroom.

He carried the relaxed feeling with him, taking a much longer shower than normal, standing in the warm water and letting it cascade down his body. He pulled on sweatpants and a t-shirt and then finally made his way downstairs.

The front door was open and a fresh breeze was gently circulating through the house as he headed for the kitchen to put the coffee machine on. He was pulling down two mugs as Lucky came trotting in, clearly looking for some attention. When Bucky bent down to pet him, his fur was sun-warmed, and Bucky thought about just getting to stretch out in the sun for a couple of hours without having to worry about any responsibilities or calls on his time. Yeah, that seemed like a good way to round out what was left of the morning.

He went back upstairs to grab his book, then tucked it under his arm, picked up both mugs of coffee and took them outside to where he could hear Clint still cheerfully whistling.

And immediately lost all his relaxed lethargy.

Clint had been hard at work while Bucky had been sleeping in. He’d dismantled one end of the porch and surrounded the area with a pile of lumber, a sawhorse, and a whole clutter of tools. He was wearing a very worn pair of jeans and a white undershirt that left his arms, most of his shoulders, and a wide scoop of his chest on display. He was glistening with sweat, had sawdust in his hair and a pencil behind one ear.

Bucky just stopped dead and stared, every molecule of his body lighting up with arousal.

“Hey!” said Clint, setting down the plank he’d been measuring. “I wasn’t sure you were ever going to get up.”

Bucky swallowed to try and get enough moisture in his mouth to speak. “Morning,” he managed.

“Oh, hey, and you brought me coffee!” said Clint, beaming. He grabbed the porch rail and pulled himself up to stand on the edge of the porch, muscles bulging, bringing his legs fully into view. Bucky’s eyes riveted on just how tight his jeans were, and his mouth went dry again.

Holy shit.

He held one of the mugs out to Clint without managing any more words and Clint took it with a grin, taking a long gulp that, fuck, really highlighted his throat. Bucky desperately redirected his eyes to his own mug and stared down at the coffee in it until he felt capable of words again.

“I thought you said you were going to work on the dining room floor?”

“Yeah,” said Clint with a shrug. “That was the plan, but then we were sat out here last night, and I realised how easy it would be to extend it a few metres, and then there’d be space for a longer porch swing, and a table and chairs as well. Here, let me show you…” 

He went back to his work area and grabbed a bit of paper, then brought it back to show Bucky.

It was a surprisingly technical-looking drawing of what he planned to do, showing how the porch would extend across almost the whole front of the house, stopping just before the kitchen window. He’d put in measurements for the platform he’d be building and the railings it would need around it, and even the sloped roof above it. Next to the drawing were a couple of little equations that looked like he’d been working out how much lumber he’d need.

“Oh,” said Bucky, staring at it. “You actually know what you’re doing.”

Clint laughed. “Yeah, I know. Crazy, right?” he said, taking the paper back from Bucky.

“Uh, I didn’t mean-” started Bucky, but Clint cut him off.

“Nah, it’s cool, man, I get it. I wouldn’t have pegged me for being particularly handy at this stuff either. I helped out the carpenters at the circus for a year or two before I was good enough to have my own act, and sometimes even after that when they were short-handed. And I bought this place five or six years ago and have been working on it ever since, which was kind of a steep learning curve.” He shrugged, looking down at the paper. “I guess I just like seeing something I’ve imagined coming to life.”

Bucky knew exactly what he meant, although what he was imagining right now, faced with Clint looking like that, was very different to a new porch. Bucky took a sip of his coffee to try and calm his libido down a bit.

“Yeah, I can get that,” he said. “I’ve been imagining lying out in the sun with a book, so I’m gonna go make that happen while you get on with the manual labour.”

Clint laughed again and, god, that kind of easy happiness on his face while the sun was shining down on it suited him so well. “That seems fair,” he said. “Try not to fall back asleep.”

Bucky rolled his eyes because there was no way he was going to be sleeping when he could be looking at Clint instead. He found one of the loungers from yesterday and made a show of dragging it around to get the best sun, and if that meant he had a good view of Clint measuring and sawing planks to size, well, that was just chance.

He barely managed a page of his book over the next couple of hours. Clint looked so relaxed and easy as he worked. It made Bucky’s skin tingle with the need to touch him. He could imagine all too clearly Clint pushing him up against his sawhorse, or the wall of the house, and kissing Bucky while Bucky finally got his hands all over Clint’s body.

Shit, how was Bucky meant to take things slow when he had this temptation in front of him? He might not have seen much modern porn, but he’d been around long enough to know when he was basically looking at the start of some classic handyman erotica.

“Okay,” announced Clint, setting down his saw and stretching in a way that really should have been illegal when he was wearing a shirt that thin. “Time for lunch. You hungry?”

Bucky was _starving_ , but he could also eat. He set his book down like he had any idea what was happening in it and followed Clint into the house, checking out his ass on the way, just because he could.

****

After lunch Bucky took himself off for a run, hoping to clear his head a bit. It mostly worked, up until he arrived back at the house to find Clint had stripped his shirt off, presumably just to torture Bucky.

“Hey!” Clint greeted him cheerfully, like he wasn’t displaying himself like a wet dream. He was holding one of the porch railings, hands running over the smooth curves of the wood. Bucky nearly fell over his own feet.

“Need water,” he gritted out, and escaped into the house.

Things weren’t much better after he’d gulped down some water, had a shower, and headed back outside. He’d meant to stay inside longer, or at least head out to somewhere he couldn’t see Clint, but instead he found himself settling on the lounger again. Apparently he didn’t have the willpower to go where he couldn’t stare at the tanned muscles of Clint’s back as he crouched down to hammer planks into place.

Crouching down made Clint’s jeans pull down, so the curve of his ass was visible above his waistband. Bucky clung tighter to the book he wasn’t reading and took a deep breath.

The afternoon drifted by in a haze of sunshine, sawdust and glistening muscles. Bucky gave up on trying to convince himself he was going to get anything else done and just let himself enjoy it all.

After the first hour or so, he realised that Clint didn’t just look hot as hell while he worked, he also looked competent. He clearly knew exactly what he was doing, referring occasionally to his little plan but mostly just casually working through the afternoon as if he’d built hundreds of porches.

Bucky hadn’t seen him looking so at home with what he was doing anywhere other than on the range, or on a mission. Maybe the gap between Hawkeye and all his skills, and Clint and the lowkey disaster zone that tended to follow him around, wasn’t as big as he’d thought.

And, shit, it was a lot hotter than Bucky could ever have imagined watching Clint be good at something, especially something like carpentry. It was almost as much a turn on as his shirtlessness.

Almost.

Bucky really was going to have to work out what the etiquette was for masturbating in someone else’s shower, because there was no way in hell he was going to get through the day without getting off.

He allowed himself a little daydream about Clint joining him in the shower, and getting to wash the wood dust off his skin and feel just how warm the sun had made it.

“Hey, you okay man?” asked Clint.

Bucky blinked and realised his book was in his lap and he was staring in a very obvious manner that made it clear that reading had not been his primary occupation. Clint had paused in his work to raise an eyebrow at him.

“You’re not, like, zoning out from boredom or anything are you?” he asked. “We can go do something more interesting tomorrow if you like, finishing this can wait if it needs to.”

“Uh no, no, it’s fine,” said Bucky, because the fact that the porch was clearly not going to be finished that afternoon, which meant he’d get to spend at least one more day like this, had not escaped him. Watching Clint finish it sounded like the best way to spend his vacation days that he could imagine. 

“I’m just enjoying watching,” he added, because it wasn’t as if he needed to hide just how attracted he was to Clint, not when he was still trying to work out how to take things further. “You look really good doing woodwork.”

Clint blinked like he had no idea that he looked like some kind of pin up, then he glanced down at himself. “Huh, so this is what it takes,” he said. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for weeks, and I should have just pulled out a toolkit?”

“You already had my attention,” Bucky pointed out. “I’ve been staring at your ass at the range every time we’re in there.”

“Yeah, okay,” said Clint, but there was a weary note in his voice that made Bucky blink away some of the lethargy from lying in the sun for a few hours.

“You knew that,” he said. “I know you knew that, you wink at me any time I get too obvious.”

Clint let out a long sigh. He glanced down at the plank he was halfway through sanding, then set the sander down and walked towards Bucky. 

“Sure,” he said. “I wink at you, and I flirt back, and last night we were basically cuddling on the swing. I’ve made it real clear that you can make a move, but you haven’t.” He winced and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Not that you have to, of course, I get that liking how someone looks and wanting to be with them are different things, just, it’d be nice to know where I stand.”

Bucky felt his heart sink. He hadn’t considered for a second that Clint wouldn’t know exactly where he stood, not when Bucky had been doing exactly what his pa had told him to do.

“Clint,” he said, then took a deep breath, because apparently actions weren’t enough and he needed to use his words. He sat up properly on the lounger, swinging his legs off to rest on the grass. “You’re really important to me. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. That’s why I’ve been taking it slow, so you’d know this isn’t just about how hot you look shirtless.”

“Oh,” said Clint, looking blindsided. “Okay. That’s- that’s really good.” A little smile bloomed his face, one that lit up his eyes in a way Bucky wanted to see every day for the rest of their lives. “Guess you didn’t factor in that I’m kinda dumb, you have to spell this shit out for me.”

“You’re not dumb,” said Bucky immediately, because he couldn’t ever stand to hear Clint’s self-deprecation without correcting him. He reached out and hooked his fingers in Clint’s belt loops, just like Clint had done to him, back at the tower. He hoped it had the same effect on Clint that it had had on Bucky. 

“Could a dumb guy just set up with a pile of wood and rebuild a porch like that? Shit, Clint, I’ve been watching you as much for how skilled you are with all this stuff as I have been for how damn good your biceps look when you’re sawing a plank.” He gave a rueful shrug. “I guess I didn’t consider that maybe flirting would have changed in the last 70 years.”

Clint cleared his throat, then took a step closer to Bucky so they were only a few inches apart, Bucky looking up at him from his seat on the lounger. He had a feeling that if he’d had almost anyone else looming over him like that, he’d have felt the urge to stand up and regain some sense of control, but with Clint it just made him feel weirdly protected. 

“It’s okay,” said Clint. “We can go any pace you want, as long as I know where I stand. We can carry on being weirdly close friends, maybe bring in some more cuddling because I really do enjoy that, whatever makes you comfortable. Just, I feel like I should make it clear that there’s not really any limits on how fast we can go if you want, don’t think you need to go slow for my benefit. I’d happily fuck right now on this lounger or, hell, bend you over my sawhorse, if that was what you wanted.”

Heat flooded through Bucky’s body because, shit, he’d been imagining exactly that less than half an hour ago, and now Clint was mentioning it so casually, like he’d been thinking about it as well.

Had he been watching Bucky watch him and having the same kinds of thoughts? Fuck, just the idea of it was turning Bucky on again.

“I don’t think we’re friends,” he said. “Not even weirdly close ones.” He leaned in close enough to wrap his arms around Clint’s waist, then decided he’d waited long enough relying only on ambiguous gestures. It was time to make a clear statement. He pressed a kiss to the bare skin of Clint’s stomach, as it was right there in front of him. The warmth of Clint’s skin against Bucky’s lips made them tingle and he had to take a moment to enjoy the moment before he spoke again. “This is definitely more than that.”

Clint ran a hand through Bucky’s hair and his smile widened into something filled with pleasure. “That’s really good to hear.”

“And, uh,” said Bucky, then plucked up all his courage, “I’ve kinda been thinking about you fucking me over your sawhorse as well. I think maybe if we’re on the same page, if you know anything between us is gonna be more than a physical thing, there’s no need to take it slow anymore.”

Clint’s eyes darkened with a sudden onslaught of arousal and he swallowed. “Yeah?” he asked, sounding fairly breathless. “Because I’ve been watching you all sprawled out and so fucking relaxed on this lounger all fucking day, Bucky, and there’s a fair few things I’ve been wanting to do to you.”

Bucky took a deep breath, sliding his hands down to squeeze Clint’s ass. “You should do them, then,” he said, feeling almost dizzy with how much he wanted this. “Whatever you were thinking, just go for it. Anything you want.”

Clint dropped to his knees so fast that his arms were around Bucky’s shoulders, hauling him in for a kiss, before Bucky had properly realised he’d moved. There was nothing slow and gentle about their first proper kiss, nothing like what Bucky had pictured when he’d imagined kissing the girl he was going to marry back when he was young. Clint fisted one hand in Bucky’s hair to hold his head where he wanted it, plunging inside his mouth and taking him apart with furious passion, until Bucky was breathless and blown away, not able to do anything else but just cling on to Clint’s shoulders and let him take what he wanted.

By the time Clint pulled away Bucky was dazed and his head was spinning too fast for him to manage a coherent thought. He’d spent all day wanting this and here it was, even better than he’d been imagining.

“Anything I want?” asked Clint, his eyes darting over Bucky’s face.

Bucky didn’t have the brain power to work out what he might be looking for, or to even come up with anything more original than repeating Clint’s words back to him. “Anything you want.”

Clint’s face lit up with one of the smirking grins that Bucky was always powerless in the face of, and he planted his hand in the middle of Bucky’s chest, pushing him back to sprawl on the lounger. 

“I want to taste you,” he said, and ran his hands all down Bucky’s chest and stomach to the waist of his jeans. He paused for a moment, looking at Bucky’s face as if waiting for a response, but Bucky just lay where he’d fallen, legs spread, and waited for him to move. He couldn’t even find words to encourage him, not when his breath was caught in his throat.

Clint didn’t waste any more time. He pulled open the button on Bucky’s jeans and drew down the zipper, then pulled them down his thighs, taking his boxers with them. “I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” he said, staring down at Bucky’s cock, which was hard enough to press up against his stomach, even without having been touched. God, he wanted to be touched though, he wanted it so badly, but it felt like all he could do was just lie there and stare at Clint, trying to process how fast this was happening.

“Been watching you lounge here, all spread out, and I wanted to suck you until you were panting, wanted to get you off so hard you wouldn’t be able to move, wanted to make you _moan_ and know that it was all for me.”

“Fuck,” breathed Bucky, and reached out a hand to take Clint’s, clinging on because it felt like he was going to float away just from his words. “Please.”

Clint grinned again, squeezing his hand, then leaned down and licked up the length of Bucky’s cock, making him choke out a whine at how _good_ it felt, fuck, when had he last got a blowjob? Must have been before Azzano, maybe even before he’d joined up at all.

Clint bent his head closer, taking hold of Bucky’s cock with the hand that wasn’t still clinging to Bucky’s. He gave a rough stroke and then put his mouth back on it, sucking it down far further than Bucky would have thought was possible.

He heard himself groan, a deep, guttural sound, as if from miles away, and lost track of everything that wasn’t Clint’s mouth, and lips and _tongue_ , all of them working in concert to pitch the sensations higher and higher. Clint was taking him apart faster than Bucky had realised was possible, until he was vaguely aware that he was about to embarrass himself with how quickly he was going to come.

“Oh god,” he choked out. “Clint, I’m close, oh god.”

Clint didn’t reply, he just redoubled his efforts, sliding Bucky’s cock so deeply into his mouth that he could feel the soft pressure of the back of his throat. Jesus, did the guy not have a gag reflex?

“Oh god,” whimpered Bucky again, electric sensations rushing through his body as his orgasm began to build. “I’m gonna-”

And just like that, Clint pulled all the way off, circling the base of Bucky’s cock with his fingers and tightening them just enough to halt the incipient orgasm.

“Fuck!” swore Bucky, curling up with the frustration of it. “Oh fuck, you bastard.”

Clint snorted, running his hand over Bucky’s thigh like he was soothing him. “You were the one who wanted to take things slow,” he said. “Got to make our first time special, right?”

“Bastard,” said Bucky again, catching his breath. “You’re- this is plenty special, trust me.”

Clint grinned at him and Bucky couldn’t help smiling back, even with the frustration of his stifled orgasm still running through him. “Oh, well, if you’re sure you feel special,” he said, then leaned back down and swallowed Bucky down again without warning, sucking hard enough to make his cheeks hollow.

The suddenness of it on top of how close Bucky had been a moment ago meant that it was barely seconds before Bucky came, crying out loudly enough to echo across the lawn as his come flooded into Clint’s mouth.

He didn’t realise his eyes had closed until he blinked them open, staring up at the blue sky overhead for a few moments of pure, relaxed bliss, before refocusing down at Clint’s smug grin. Bucky felt like he’d earned his obvious self-satisfaction.

“Carpentry’s not the only thing I’m really skilled at,” Clint said, still grinning as he started stroking Bucky’s thigh again, then pushing up under his shirt to run across his stomach. Bucky just lay there and let him, trying to pull together enough brain power to reply.

“Yeah,” he said eventually. “Guess not.”

Clint’s grin only widened. “Man, I love showing off,” he said happily, then climbed partially onto the lounger so he could lean over Bucky and kiss him, layering soft, satisfied kisses onto his lips until Bucky had recovered enough to kiss back, setting his hand on the back of Clint’s head to keep him close.

Clint leaned in a little closer, and the shift of weight made the lounger start to tip in an alarming manner so he pulled away, setting it back on all four legs.

“Okay,” said Clint, “the way I see it, we’ve got three choices now.”

“Yeah?” asked Bucky, stretching his arms above his head to shake out some of the post-coital lethargy.

“Yeah,” agreed Clint, and his eyes traced over the lines of Bucky’s body in a satisfyingly heated manner. “I can go back to the porch, and you can stay here and have a nap, and no pressure for anything else.” 

Bucky didn’t really fancy the idea of that because it felt like a step backwards, to how he’d spent the day watching and wanting, without getting to touch. “Or?”

“Or we head upstairs to my bedroom, and I lay you out and take my time getting you turned on again, show you just how I feel about you,” said Clint, resting his hand on Bucky’s stomach and giving it a little stroke, like he was Lucky or something.

“That could work,” said Bucky, because he did really like the idea of being naked with Clint, and with a bed rather than a lounger under them so they could move together without worrying about it tipping over. “What’s the third option?”

Clint gave a half-shrug. “Just, as we both seem to have been thinking about it, we could leave the slow, tender lovemaking for later and I could just bend you over the sawhorse and fuck you right now.”

A hot flush of lust ran right through Bucky, far stronger than he’d have thought given that he’d only just had a mind-blowing orgasm. “Yes,” he said immediately. “That. Please.”

Clint’s eyes went wide. “Oh shit, really?” he said. “Holy shit, Bucky, don’t say that if you don’t want it.”

“I want it,” said Bucky, and sat up far enough to pull his shirt off, tossing it onto the grass behind him. “Clint, please. Fuck me.”

“Christ,” said Clint, then crowded back in to kiss Bucky again, hard and heavy, gripping his shoulder tightly enough to hurt for an instant before he sprang to his feet, backing a few steps away. “I need to get some stuff, just, wait here, I’ll be right back.” 

He blinked at Bucky as if worried he might disappear, then darted for the house. As he reached the front door, he paused to glance back. “You can be getting your pants off,” he called. “I want you completely naked when I get back.”

Bucky started moving before he’d finished speaking, pulling off his sneakers and socks then standing up to shove his jeans and underwear off, leaving them piled on the grass as he headed over to the sawhorse. Shit, were they really going to do this? He wiped his hand across it, knocking off a couple of curls of wood shavings, and wondered what his pa would say about it.

But then, before he’d got to judging Bucky for fucking in the outdoors over carpentry equipment for his first time with the person he wanted to spend his life with, he’d have to get past the bit where it was a guy not a gal, and a guy born over fifty years after Bucky. Trying to explain any of this to him was more than Bucky really wanted to think about.

And it was what he wanted. Sure, he and Clint could have gone upstairs and made sweet, slow love, but Bucky was pretty hopeful that there’d be plenty of occasions for them to do that. Right now, he had a chance at being part of his very own carpentry porno, and he really didn’t want to let that slip through his fingers.

“Holy shit,” said a voice behind him, and Bucky turned to see Clint paused on the porch, staring at him with wide eyes. “Shit, sorry, just...Bucky Barnes is standing naked in my yard, waiting for me to fuck him. Jesus, your ass is...fuck.”

He was staring at Bucky like he’d never seen anything like him before, which Bucky could relate to, because it was probably exactly how he’d been looking at Clint all day. He put a hand on his hip and posed for a moment.

“You just gonna stare, or are you gonna come over here and touch?” he asked.

“Fuck,” muttered Clint, then jogged down the porch steps and across the grass. He was still wearing nothing but his tight jeans and heavy work boots, but now he had a bottle of lube crammed into one pocket and a string of condoms trailing out the other, like he’d been in too much of a hurry to tuck them in properly, or even just rip off the one or two they’d need.

Bucky found himself reaching out before Clint was even close, pulling him in for a kiss as soon as he could, running his hands over Clint’s back and down to his ass, pulling him in tight against Bucky’s hips so he could feel the hard line of his cock. Fuck, that was going to be inside him soon.

He could feel himself getting hard again despite just how desperately he’d come just minutes ago.

“This is going to be so good,” he murmured against Clint’s lips.

“Oh yeah,” agreed Clint, one hand grabbing at Bucky’s ass and the other buried in his hair as he kissed him again, hard and heavy until Bucky was breathless again. Fuck, oxygen was overrated.

“You’re sure about this, right?” asked Clint the next time they pulled apart. “I’m not rushing you into anything?”

Bucky snorted, pulling away and taking a deep breath. “The more you ask that, the more it seems like you’re the one not sure,” he said, then turned and draped himself lengthways over the sawhorse, so he could rest his arms on it and glance back at the wide-eyed look on Clint’s face as he took in the view. “You’re welcome to go back to working on the porch if you’d prefer.”

Clint let out a punched-out breath, then stepped up right close to Bucky, running his hands over his back to his ass before sinking down to his knees. “Definitely not,” he said, and pressed a firm kiss to the centre of Bucky’s left ass cheek. “How the hell could I do anything else when I’ve got all this spread out for me? Fuck, Bucky.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” said Bucky, feeling his skin shiver with anticipation as Clint ran his hands over his ass and down his thighs. “Fuck me, c’mon. I’ve been wanting it all day.”

“Yeah, me too,” said Clint, “fuck, longer than that. Weeks. Months.” He kissed Bucky’s ass cheek again, softer this time, then smoothed his hands over both cheeks, running his thumbs down his crack and pulling apart.

The first touch of his tongue against Bucky’s hole made Bucky twitch with surprise, sucking in a breath because he’d been expecting lube or fingers, not this.

“Oh god, Clint,” he choked out as Clint gently pressed in, warm and damp, just enough for Bucky to feel his muscle start to relax, before he pulled back and swirled around the rim instead. “Fuck, Clint,” he moaned, sinking his head down to rest on his arms as his eyes slid shut, so his only focus was the sensations running through him, arousal building higher as Clint kept going.

None of those guys Bucky had had back-alley fumbles with had ever done anything like this, and definitely none of the women he’d been with, not even the most adventurous ones. He’d only been half-aware that it was a thing that folks did.

And shit, now it was happening to him, he could definitely tell exactly why folks did do it. It felt like every nerve in his body was looped in to what Clint was doing, every move of Clint’s tongue sending shivers through every part of him but especially his dick, which was now hard enough to be rubbing up against the edge of the sawhorse. He shifted back to give it some room, which had the happy side effect of pushing his ass further into Clint’s mouth.

Clint made a happy noise deep in his throat, as if there was nowhere else he’d like to be other than on his knees with his tongue in Bucky’s ass. He pressed in even deeper, thrusting his tongue in and out until Bucky was gasping and clinging to the edges of the sawhorse.

“Oh god, Clint,” he managed. “Too much, not gonna last.”

Clint pulled away and Bucky couldn’t stop himself from letting out a groan at the loss of sensation.

“Seemed like you liked that,” said Clint, far too cheerfully given that Bucky was sucking in deep breaths and trying to get his brain together enough to form coherent thought. He kissed Bucky’s ass again, fast and affectionate, then stood up and draped himself over Bucky’s back. Bucky could feel the rough denim of his jeans pressed against his ass and shuddered at how sensitive he felt there now.

Clint kissed Bucky’s shoulder. “God, you taste so good,” he said. “Bet you’re gonna feel even better around my cock though, right?”

“Shit, just get on with it,” said Bucky, pressing back against Clint’s erection.

Clint snorted with amusement, kissing the back of Bucky’s neck before moving away. Bucky let himself rest against the sawhorse for a moment, catching his breath, then glanced back over his shoulder, watching as Clint pulled the condoms and lube out of his pockets, setting them on the sawhorse so he could pull down his jeans and let his erection spring free. God, it was exactly what Bucky had been hoping for, long and thick and flushed red with arousal. He wanted it in him so badly.

Clint caught his eyes and gave him a grin. “Is this the bit where I start on the bad carpentry porn dialogue?” he asked, ripping a condom off the strip and opening the packet. “I’m going to hammer you with my mighty tool,” he said as he rolled it on his cock. “I’m gonna lay you like a plank,” he added, grabbing the lube and drizzling some on his fingers. “Got some hard wood that I know you’re gonna enjoy.” He pressed two slick fingers against Bucky’s hole and pressed inside easily, given how loose and spit-slicked it was. “Something about nailing, I don’t know, I’m kinda distracted right now.”

“I think you should know,” said Bucky through gritted teeth, pushing back into Clint’s fingers, “that the more you talk, the less turned on I am.”

Clint snorted, scissoring his fingers for a moment before pulling out and pushing back inside with three, making Bucky groan. “Yeah, that’s not true at all,” he said. “Everyone loves my puns.”

“Steve doesn’t,” managed Bucky, between pants.

“Steve’s not the one ass-up on my sawhorse waiting for me to fuck him,” said Clint cheerfully, and it felt unfair that he was so together when Bucky was finding sentences longer than a couple of words hard to get out.

“Been waiting a while,” he pointed out. “Gonna get on and do something?”

“Feels like I’ve done a lot,” said Clint, pulling his fingers free. “I mean, just look at you, fuck, Bucky, you’re so hot like this. I can see you shaking.” He ran his hand over Bucky’s hip as if to soothe him, but soothing was the last thing Bucky wanted right now.

“C’mon and fuck me,” he said. “Stop fucking teasing.” He pressed back into Clint’s grip.

“Yeah,” agreed Clint and he was finally starting to sound breathless too. He started to press his cock inside Bucky and Bucky felt the air being punched out of him, his hands clenching against the edge of the sawhorse.

“Oh fuck,” he said, with feeling. “Oh fuck, Clint.”

“Yeah,” said Clint, definitely breathless now, “Yeah, baby, I’ve got you.”

Bucky wasn’t sure how he felt about ‘baby’, but he didn’t get a chance to comment as Clint pushed the final bit inside him, filling him up almost too much.

“Fuck, yeah,” gasped Bucky, and pressed back into the feel of it. God, it had been too long since he’d felt anything like this, far too long, and now he was getting to have it with Clint, the only person he really wanted to ever have this with again.

“You good?” asked Clint, holding in place, “shit, Bucky, say you’re okay?”

“I’m so okay,” said Bucky, and pushed back again. “C’mon, fuck me. Fuck me like I’ve been wanting you to all day.”

Clint let out a breathy half-laugh. “How about I fuck you like _I’ve_ been wanting all day?” he said, then pulled out and pushed back in hard and fast. “Been wanting to just take you apart, Bucky.”

“Yeah,” agreed Bucky, losing most of his words as Clint started up a fast, deep pace, forcing him to just cling on to the sawhorse and take it, just how he’d imagined in his daydreams.

“Fuck, you feel so good, your _ass_ ,” said Clint, gripping tighter to Bucky’s hips. Bucky spread his legs a bit wider then pushed himself up off the sawhorse, which was letting out some alarming creaks but still seemed to be holding up okay. His new position meant he was able to push back properly into Clint’s thrusts, until Clint wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling them tighter together and starting to press kisses to his shoulders and neck.

Bucky kept one hand bracing himself on the sawhorse while the other wrapped around Clint’s arm, holding on as tightly as he could. “Yeah,” he heard himself keep saying in a breathless, wondering tone that fitted with the way his mind had gone blissed out, as if there was nothing left but Clint’s cock, sending sensation shuddering through his whole body with every thrust. “Yeah, Clint, like that, yeah.”

“Ah shit,” muttered Clint, “not gonna- Bucky, baby, I’m close, tell me you’re close, want to feel you come around me.”

Fuck, just hearing that was almost hot enough to make Bucky come right there and then. He let go of Clint’s arm and fumbled for his own cock, pulling on it hard and fast in time with Clint’s movements. It barely took more than that for him to come, gasping out Clint’s name, which seemed to be the only word he could remember just then.

“Oh fuck, Bucky,” said Clint. “God, you’re perfect, this is perfect.” He came only a few seconds later, pressing his face into the back of Bucky’s shoulder and letting out a deep groan that rumbled through Bucky’s chest.

They held still for a few seconds, Clint’s breaths coming out hard and heavy against Bucky’s back as he calmed down. Bucky stared down at the sawhorse, at the place where his metal fingers had clung so tightly to it that the edge was now dented. If Clint tried to complain about that, Bucky would just point out that it had been entirely his fault. Bucky wouldn’t have lost control like that if Clint hadn’t been so very good at fucking him.

“I can’t believe the sawhorse didn’t collapse,” said Clint, still pressed against Bucky’s back.

“Me neither,” admitted Bucky. “It’s probably not gonna be the same again, though.”

Clint made a movement that felt like a shrug. “Small price to pay,” he said, then moved back off Bucky. There was the weird sensation of his dick pulling out, then Bucky straightened up fully and turned around to look at Clint. With his jeans undone and halfway down his thighs, and his cock hanging out with the condom still on it, he looked even more like a porn actor than he had before.

“I think you’ve ruined me for carpenter porn,” he said as he took in the sweaty mess of Clint’s hair and the way his face and chest were still flushed from arousal.

Clint snorted. “I am more than okay with that,” he said. “And happy to have a replay any time you want.”

Bucky took a step forward on wobbly legs, pulling Clint in to a long, soft kiss, that both felt at odds to the fast, desperate fuck they’d just had, and completely in sync with how his heart was feeling right now. “How about next time we try it in a bed?” he suggested. “I want to take my time with you.”

Clint’s smile was small but content. “Yeah,” he agreed. “That sounds good.”

“I want you to feel special,” added Bucky softly, running his fingers through Clint’s mess of hair.

Clint laughed. “You think just anyone lets me fuck them over a sawhorse?” he asked. “I already feel pretty special, baby. Especially as you’re the only one I’d want to.”

Bucky leaned in and kissed him again, clinging tightly to his shoulders as the sun beamed down on them and the wind gently wafted through the trees. He guessed there were a bunch of different ways of treating someone right, not just his pa’s way, because Clint was right. This felt pretty fucking special.


End file.
